A Winter Ball
by feathersandbraids
Summary: Draco Malfoy finds Hermione Granger in a precarious situation, very unlike her.


Her hands gripped the granite sink and she felt she might break it. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath trying to keep the room from spinning any more that it already was. This ball was a mistake, and falling into Ron's trap was an even bigger one.

"_Winter ball_" she thought to herself angrily, "_What sick person thought this one up?"_

She took in her appearance. She wore a simple crimson dress that fell off the shoulders and she smoothed the front of it before the sudden rush of feeling like the room had just flipped over. Just three hours prior as they headed down to the ball, Ron had insisted hiding a bottle of firewhiskey in his robes. Hermione had scolded him thoroughly noting that there would be underage witches and wizards there and they could get a month worth of detention. Ron had rolled his eyes at her and stalked out of the common room. When she and Harry had finally found him in the crowded Great Hall, he held the bottle out to her, and raised an eyebrow.

"I will _not_ be drinking any of that, thank you very much Ronald." She had spat.

"Merlin Hermione, I never realized you really were unable to have any fun. Ever." Ron shot back. And with that she had angrily taken the bottle and took a large swallow of it, wincing as it seared her throat. Harry laughed in amusement, and Hermione glared at Ron, before taking another drink. Throughout the night she had drunken more than half the bottle, slowly becoming louder, and laughing more, and being overall far to friendly with everyone. And then the room started swaying and she had rushed off to find the loo.

The door to the bathroom opened and closed with a soft click.

"I'm alright." She called, "I just needed out of the crowded whatsit." And began to laugh.

"As interesting as that is, Granger, I don't really care." She started, standing up straight. She saw Malfoy standing in the entryway through the mirror, and spun around.

"You..You're not supposed to be in here! This is the _girl's _lavatory." She said forcefully.

"Is it?" He motioned at the urinal.

"Well, That's very interesting." She started laughing hard.

Malfoy raised an eyebrow and surveyed her, trying to figure out exactly what was wrong with the girl. He smirked when he figured it out and took a step towards her. He found himself thinking about her appearance and how her hair was pinned up to frame her face perfectly, if not slightly disheveled given her current state. Hermione seemed to realize he was taking her in and smoothed her dress again, rocking on spot trying to keep her balance.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you've been drinking, Granger."

"Pfft, Me? I…." she started laughing again and ran attempted to run hand through her hair. "Fuck. This sucks. Why do people even create this stupid stuff?" She looked around the room as if the answer was hanging from one of the lamps or written on the stall.

Malfoy laughed, "Some find it rather enjoyable to have whatever you're feeling. Who put you up to this?"

"Ronald." She sighed. She took a step towards him, and then took a step back. "I should probably….you know, head back."

"Probably, Granger."

"Why aren't you being mean to me?" She asked suddenly.

"As amusing as it is to me to do so, I don't really want to listen to you bitch and have you ruin my night." She squinted her eyes and nodded. "Were you even listening to me just now?" She giggled, and shook her head. She crossed the room for the door, stopping just next to him, resting a hand on his chest lightly.

"You look well fit tonight, you know." She murmured, gently running her fingertips up to his shoulder. "Pansy's a lucky git." He turned on his heel towards her abruptly, chin at her forehead. He resisted the urge to look down at her, scared of catching her gaze. She was unsteady, and worse, completely unpredictable. He recognized exactly how dangerous she was right now. He felt her hand on his cheek, lightly pushing, trying to coerce him into the situation. He licked his lips, and looked at her. She smiled, eyes glinting with intoxication and amusement.

"You should really go Granger. I'm serious."

"Kiss me." She whispered.

"No. I don't think that would be wise." His hands wrapped around her wrists gently, and lowered them.

She lifted up on to her tiptoes, brushing her lips against his. He fought the intense urge to give into her. She leaned back and then pressed her lips against his harder, her body as close as possible and her touch burned. He cupped her face, kissing her fiercely, tasting the firewhiskey on her tongue and drinking it in. And then he pulled away, grasping her shoulders firmly as if to make her stay planted to the spot.

"We can't do this, Granger. This…this just can't happen."

She gave a small laugh, and half a smile, before licking her bottom lip.

"Have a good night, Malfoy." She patted his chest, and exited the bathroom. He watched the door swing close, touching his lips, trying to figure out what exactly had happened, and what it meant. But he had the sneaking suspicion, that it didn't matter to her, that no matter who had walked through that door, be it him, or Ron or Harry, she would wound her way inside their head, and repeated the act.

And he was right. She would have.


End file.
